Awake, O north wind; and come, you south; blow upon my garden, that its spices may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat its pleasant fruits.
All Commentaries on Song of Songs 4:16 Go To Song of Songs 4
Ambrose of Milan
For this reason, too, the church, guarding the depth of the heavenly mysteries, repels the furious storms of wind, and calls to it the sweetness of the grace of spring, and knowing that its garden cannot displease Christ, invites the bridegroom, saying, “Arise, O north wind, and come, you south; blow upon my garden, and let my ointments flow down. Let my brother come down to his garden and eat the fruit of his trees.” For it has good trees and fruitful, which have dipped their roots in the water of the sacred spring, and with fresh growth have shot forth into good fruits, so as now not to be cut with the axe of the prophet, but to abound with the fruitfulness of the gospel.